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Tom surveyed Skittles with an even, patronising gaze. He did, he admitted to himself, think the black leather rather more tasteful than the former hideously bright melange that the star of the Mordorian Foreign Office had preferred wearing before...now that Alli had left, he was strictly tempted to respond with "As a matter fact, yes" followed by a quick Full Body Bind Curse, but he rejected the plan for the moment as overcomplicating an already convoluted situation.
Time for a charm offensive.
"Why, Skittles, you look ravishing," he said. "Positively, ah, oakish. Doesn't she, Maika?" he added with a step back, only to find that Maika was no longer in the immediate vicinity. "Ah, well, take my word for it. My lady, if an oak tree had decided to take up a career in stealth, cunning and assassination, it would be...your very spitting image."
Another step back.
"So, um, Skittles, do you know anything about this Lola character who's going to be joining us?"
He kept his left hand clenched tightly in his robe's inside pocket, his wand ready to be out. Just in case. Smalltalk with this maiden could be quite tricky, and he really didn't like getting hurt.
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